


breezeblocks

by notdarthvader



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Some depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 19:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notdarthvader/pseuds/notdarthvader
Summary: “He will want to run away, he will flit around the outsides of your control, of our control, and will promise to leave. You cannot let him.”There is something that hurts in Sojiro’s gaze, and an empty space in the pictures on the mantle, and Hanzo does not ask, does not even try to understand.





	breezeblocks

**Author's Note:**

> another Hanzo study. Love him.
> 
> might be a one-off, might extend it to go through his time on the run and through joining overwatch, but just a sad one-shot for now.
> 
> Not shimadacest pls do not interpret as such

“You will keep Genji in line, Hanzo,” his father tells him, and for all the steel in his voice, there is desperation, too. “You _must_.”

Hanzo doesn’t understand it, not yet, but makes these empty promises anyways.

“He will want to run away, he will flit around the outsides of your control, of our control, and will promise to leave. You _cannot let him_.”

There is something that hurts in Sojiro’s gaze, and an empty space in the pictures on the mantle, and Hanzo does not ask, does not even try to understand.

* * *

 

Sojiro dies, and the elders slink in, their claws out, offering him poison in the form of words.

Hanzo drinks.

* * *

 

Hanzo makes breakfast, his motions slow, steady and even.

Genji watches him across the table, quiet, hungover, but his eyes hold accusations he can’t place yet.

* * *

 

“Have you asked him where he’s been?” his aunt asks, her voice a soft hiss in the shrine at sunset.

“He is at the arcade,” Hanzo answers.

“Is he? Interesting,” she says, and turns and slinks from the room, leaving him alone in silence.

* * *

 

He and Genji spar, time and time again.

Genji always feints to the left, twirling his blade and swiping low at Hanzo’s legs.

Hanzo always jumps, landing in a roll, and sweeping Genji clean off his feet as he turns.

Genji studies Hanzo from the ground, quiet, his eyes gone dark.

* * *

 

“Where were you last night?” Hanzo asks. It’s not a question, though.

“A good question,” Genji responds, and there’s something cruel and ironic in the twist of his smile. “Where were you?”

“At a family meeting, one that you should have been at,” Hanzo snaps back.

“How interesting,” Genji says, bitter, and bitingly furious. “Because I was at the family meeting I was told to go to. You were not.”

Hanzo closes his eyes and says nothing.

* * *

 

“Brother,” Genji says, and it aches like a blow.

“Your brother plots again you,” his aunt says, and that, too, hurts.

“He will not bring honor to our family name, he is too reckless,” his uncle says.

But, only Genji and Hanzo carry dragons in their skin.

* * *

 

“Genji, you must listen to the elders-“

“Why should I? I am pretty sure they killed our father. Why do you listen to them?” Genji snaps back.

“Because they are our elders! It is what is expected of us!” Hanzo’s hand hovers over the hilt of his blade.

Genji notices. Genji always notices. “Of course,” he says, and his voice is bitter, breaking. “As you say. _Brother_.”

* * *

 

Genji feints to the left. Twirls his blade. Swipes low at Hanzo’s legs.

Hanzo’s blade cleaves Genji’s legs from his body, as the dragons snarl to life along the length of his sword.

* * *

 

“Genji? _Genji_?”

* * *

 

Hanzo holds the broken body of his brother close, his face buried in blood-spattered hair.

The elders watch, satisfied.

* * *

 

“I expect you to have cleaned the mess up by tomorrow morning.”

The copper stink of blood is heavy, oppressive, and there is blood on his hands, blood on his blade, blood in his hair.

_I expect you to have cleaned the mess up by tomorrow morning_ , his aunt says, as though-

* * *

 

The bleach stings the open cuts on his hands and arms.

* * *

 

-as though the mess was not the remnants of his brother's body, as though the mess wasn't  _his brother._

Hanzo closes his eyes, breathes out, and  _decides_.

* * *

 

Dawn crests, and the shrine sparkles, spotless.

Hanzo's room, deep in the heart of Shimada castle, is just as bare.


End file.
